


When You're Ready

by mendeshoney



Category: Shawn Mendes (Musician)
Genre: F/M, Married Characters, Married Couple, Mutual Pining, Parenthood, Past Relationship(s), Separations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-10-21 02:54:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17634671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mendeshoney/pseuds/mendeshoney
Summary: You and Shawn have been separated for a year. All he wants is his family back, but he doesn't know if he can let himself have that.





	1. Chapter 1

Shawn immediately regrets waking up when he gets the call.

He regrets every terrible decision he’s ever made in the last year. Regrets how fucking careless he’s been, his lack of caution when inebriated.

“What the hell is going on?” Andrew demands. “It’s all over the papers, Shawn. The blogs are starting rumors, people think the worst.”

Shawn sighs, running a hand over his face as he tries to ignore how loud Andrew is being and how much it hurts his hangover. He has to pull the phone away from his ear to make it better. “It’s not what you think.” 

Andrew scoffs. “Oh it’s not? Because I’m not going to lie, Shawn. As much as I love you dude, it looks terrible. And while I don’t want to believe it, you’ve been acting different lately. So what gives?”

With a sigh, Shawn cuts to the chase. “What time is the meeting with the PR firm?”

“Shawn, at least talk to me about this before-“

“When is the meeting, Andrew?”

There’s a pause, but then Andrew sighs. “It’s in an hour and a half. Can you make it down in time?”

“Yeah.” Shawn answers, uncaring. “See you then.” 

He hangs up, tossing his phone somewhere on the floor. He flops onto his stomach, head buried in his pillow. After a deep breath, he lets out a frustrated scream, accepting the pain that comes when the exertion makes his head pound. 

He deserves it. He knows he does.

Robotically, Shawn moves into the bathroom to brush his teeth and shower, taking Advil to get rid of his headache. He gets dressed in black jeans, a white sweater, shoving his phone in his back pocket before he puts his sunglasses over his tired and sensitive eyes.

He takes a glance at his wedding band on the top of his dresser, then looks at the tan line on his left ring finger. Two years of marriage. Two of the best years of his life. 

Gone because he was a stupid, sorry excuse of a man.

A year later, he wonders if he’d feel different by putting it back on, or if he’d feel the way he did on the day he took it off.

Something about the ring has him shoving it in his pocket, keeping it there just in case. 

He steps over the various toys as he descends the staircase, and play mats littering the hardwood floors of the downstairs area as he heads toward the door, eyes purposefully avoiding all of the pictures on his walls - like he’s done everyday for the last year and a half.

He grabs a coffee on his way to the label, bringing one along for Andrew as an apology for all the shit that’s happened in the last twelve hours, and for the stuff that’s happened in the last year and a half that Andrew still doesn’t know about. The drive is short and quiet, Shawn not bothering to play music or so much as try to distract himself from what’s about to happen.

“Everything going to catch up to you eventually” his mother had told him. “If you choose to avoid it, it’ll catch up to you a lot faster than you think.”

He parks in his usual spot, grabbing his coffee and Andrew’s then heading up to the usual conference room. Andrew’s already there, frowning, but it falls for a second when Shawn gives him his coffee.  
  
“What’s going on?” Andrew demands again, softer this time.

“Nothing you need to worry about.” Shawn supplies, keeping his sunglasses on and his eyes forward, starting out of the large floor to ceiling glass window that overlooks the city. 

“Is that why I can still smell the alcohol from last night on you?” 

Shawn frowns, but he doesn’t have time to reply as his lawyer and PR representatives file into the room. He gets up, removing his sunglasses and greets each of them with a smile and a handshake, because if anything he’s still polite, before they all take their seats.

Catherine, the lead of his PR team, pulls out a large envelope, removing its contents and laying them out on the conference table. One by one, Shawn finally gets to see the pictures that are no doubt plastered everywhere at this point. 

Pictures from his drunken escapades from last night - some of him and his friends, some of him arguing on the phone (those in particular get a small wince out of him, recalling the conversation, but that’s the only time he gives any reaction.)  
  
The rest are of him with Liv, the girl he met last night who he danced with. There’s some pictures of the two of them getting very comfortable in the club, others of them leaving the club hand in hand, getting into the cab, and then three pictures of him kissing her.  
  
In one picture, Shawn’s left hand is in clear view of the camera, and the lack of wedding band is clearly alarming and disheartening.  
  
What’s not shown in the pictures is that Shawn and Liv went to get pizza before he dropped her off at her apartment, and then him going home alone with a half full pizza box. But that doesn’t matter. It never matters.  
  
What matters are the pictures in front of him and the story they present - a story the public clearly already believes.   
  
Shawn’s not here to explain, he knows better now. No amount of explanation is going to fix this. He’s here for damage control, and that’s it.  
  
When Catherine’s done, she looks at Shawn, frowning. “Just tell me what I have to do.” He says, already over this.   
  
She raises a brow at him. “That’s the problem. I can’t tell you what to do because I have no idea what I’m looking at here. Who is she, Shawn? Who’s this woman? Where’s your ring? And where are your wife and kids?”  
  
Shawn immediately tenses. Everyone catches the way he reacts at the word “wife.”   
  
So they want an explanation after all. Alright.  
  
“We’re separated.” He says. It feels weird to tell it to people who aren’t his parents and Aaliyah. “We’ve been separated.”

The room is silent, taking in the weight of Shawn’s confession.

“You’re separated?” Andrew questions, and Shawn nods.

“Yeah. We’ve been separated.” He repeats.

Catherine’s assistant Libby starts writing furiously on her notepad, while Catherine and Shawn’s lawyer, Allan, frown at him. “For how long?”  
  
“A year.” He says. “We don’t live together anymore. She moved out, took the kids.”  
  
“Fucking Christ, Shawn.” Andrew says. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell anyone?”  
  
Shawn shrugs. “We’re handling it on our own. It’s a mess being in the public as it is. We didn’t want the kids to have to deal with it.”  
  
“Well now they do.” Andrew spits. He’s mad, Shawn can tell. He doesn’t fight him on it either, Andrew has every right to be upset.  
  
“Are you getting a divorce?” Allan asks.   
  
Shawn’s eyes fall to the floor, but he shakes his head. “No. We haven’t talked about that.”  
  
“Who’s the girl? Is she your new girlfriend?” Catherine asks.  
  
“No.” Shawn says. “Her name’s Liv. We met last night. That’s it. She’s from Sweden. She doesn’t know who I am.”   
  
“Did you sleep together?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Why did you and your wife separate?”  
  
Shawn winces. “I was gone a lot. I wasn’t there for her and the kids and she was having a rough time taking care of both of them on her own. She couldn’t always rely on my family to help her, and her family is miles away. She was alone, I wasn’t being a good father or a good husband, and I was too focused on myself and the music to even care about the fact that I wasn’t there. All she did was ask me for help and I couldn’t give it to her, so I called it quits.”  
  
That gets everyone’s attention. “ _You_  called it quits? It was your idea to separate?”  
  
Shawn nods, clearing his throat to push back the tears. “She wanted to work it out. She said she realized she knew what she signed up for when we first started dating, when we were nineteen. But that wasn’t an excuse, not to me. We dated for three years just fine. We managed, and even when Lucca was born after our first year of marriage, things were fine. We managed tour and stuff, and then when Gavin was born, I got busy. She knew I had a busy career, and she understood that I had things to do, but I was still gone way too much. Even I knew that. So I just…I didn’t want her to think things were her fault because they weren’t, but I couldn’t  _do_ anything about it. Not the way she wanted. So I told her maybe we needed time apart.”  
  
Silence fills the room. Shawn can feel the judgement of everyone.   
  
“You’re a twenty six year old man, Shawn.” Allan says. “I would never tell you how to be a man or how to be a father. But this is…you need to fix this.”  
  
“I agree.” Catherine says. “This is more than something we can just patch up and throw away. We can’t even twist this situation to work in your favor. People think you and your wife are still together and this makes it look like you’re cheating on her.”  
  
“But what is he supposed to do?” Andrew asks. “Make a public apology?”  
  
“That’s exactly what he should do.” Libby says, still focusing on her scribbling. “The only way to get him out of this is to release a public apology. Say you made a mistake but that you and her are working through it and trying to work on your family.”   
  
She tears the paper she’s been writing on from her legal pad and hands it to Catherine, who looks over it with Allan. The two of them nod as they read, them hand it to Shawn and Andrew when they’re done.  
  
“It’s perfect. We’ll type it up, and Shawn, you just post it to your social media - don’t add a caption though.” Catherine says. “It’s the easiest fix we can do right now.”  
  
He leaves Andrew to look over it, not even bothering with it. He just nods in agreement. “Thank you,” then he adds “and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you all sooner.”  
  
No one says anything, but Catherine sends him a sad smile. He leaves before Andrew can pester him any further, jumping in his car and dialing your number.  
  
When you answer after the first ring, you can barely get out a ‘hello’ before Shawn’s rushing out the words.  
  
“Have you seen the photos?”   
  
You frown. “No. I just woke up. Gavin’s teething so I was up all night. Plus Lucca’s got a fever, so I just got them both to sleep a few hours ago.”  
  
There’s a sharp pain in Shawn’s chest. He wishes he could’ve been there to help you. Wishes he never made this choice. But he didn’t deserve you.   
  
“I’m coming over. Is that okay? I have to talk to you about something.”   
  
“Uhhh…” you sit up from your spot on the couch. Your little two bedroom place is a mess - the boys have toys all over the place and you’ve got clean laundry in it’s bin still on the coffee table. Your room is decent, but the boys’ room is far from it. The dishes aren’t done either, but it is just Shawn.   
  
You have to keep reminding yourself that it’s just Shawn. And that nothing is what it used to be.

“Sure,” you say. “Yeah that’s fine.”  
  
“Alright. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. I’m assuming you haven’t eaten yet?”  
  
“No.” You mumble.  
  
“Then I’ll stop on the way to get you breakfast.”   
  
You say a quiet goodbye then hang up. With a sigh, you carry your body off the couch, checking once on the boys before taking a quick shower and brushing your teeth. You brush your wet hair, getting rid of the tangles and try to clean up a little before Shawn arrives.  
  
By the time he knocks on your door, you’ve managed to fold the laundry and put away most of Lucca’s toys. You stuck the dishes in the dishwasher but hadn’t started it, and you were in the laziest and baggiest clothes you owned, but you reminded yourself again that it was just  _Shawn_ , and you didn’t owe him anything anymore.  
  
When you open the door, the both of you pause to take in the others appearance.   
  
Both of you bearing deep set, dark and puffy eyes, skin paling from exhaustion, but for very different reasons.  
  
Shawn takes note of how much weight you’ve lost since he last saw you a month ago, and he frowns. He can see how your frame has changed, even under the baggy clothes.   
  
You frown when you see his disheveled curls, how his face has slimmed out a little. Even his clothes look a little big on him, his muscles less defined, meaning he’s been avoiding the gym.  
  
“You look like hell.” You say simultaneously. Shawn smiles a little, but you don’t.   
  
“Come in.”  
  
He follows you through the living room and into the kitchen, where he sets the food down on the kitchen island. You grab plates and utensils, setting them on the counter then taking a seat on the barstool next to Shawn.  
  
You two make yourselves plates of pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausages and toast, drinking from your coffee every now and again.   
  
“When did you get back from LA?” You ask quietly, poking at a piece of bacon.   
  
“Two days ago.” He says, staring at his plate. He can see you frown out of the corner of his eye and he knows he should’ve called the minute he touched down. Especially knowing Lucca’s been sick and Gavin’s been teething. 

Especially because he knows you could’ve used the break.  
  
“I know.” He says, before you can. “I should’ve called the minute I got here. But I was exhausted, and I know that’s not an excuse because you’ve been exhausted too. I’m sorry.”  
  
You nod, accepting his apology, continuing to eat wordlessly.   
  
Since you both separated you had the arrangement that when he was in town, Shawn could take the boys from Wednesday afternoon to Saturday. And then you got them Sunday through Wednesday morning. If it called for it, you both would do joint things for the sake of the boys, especially two year old Lucca, who still didn’t quite understand why his parents weren’t together, but also didn’t know it wasn’t exactly “normal.”  
  
Whatever that meant.  
  
Shawn wanted to be like his parents when he had kids of his own. He beat himself up everyday for preventing himself from having that.  
  
When Shawn was away and then would come back into town, he was supposed to immediately go and take the kids for at least a week, because Lucca missed him terribly when he was away, and Gavin was still so young, it wasn’t fair for him not to know his father.   
  
But he didn’t. And he knows that’s his fuck up to own up to.  
  
He adds another tally to his “shitty father” count, pushing it aside and focusing on the bigger issue.  
  
Or rather, more pressing.   
  
Shawn pulls out his phone and pulls up one of the many links to articles Andrew sent him. He scrolls down to the photo gallery, then slides his phone along the counter to you.  
  
“What’s this?” You ask, picking up his phone. He watches you carefully as you swipe through the paparazzi photos, and he can tell when you get to the “bad” photos, and he just…he can’t see your reaction, so he looks away.  
  
He may be a shitty husband and a shitty father, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t still care about you and what you think of him. You, still his wife, still and forever and always the mother of his children. He never meant to break your heart, and he hates that he does things like this to break it even more.  
  
For a second, he thinks you might hit him, might scream and cry, kick him out and never speak to him again. But instead, you lock his phone, sliding it back to him wordlessly.  
  
He looks down at you, raising a brow in question. “Well?”  
  
“Well what?” You ask.  
  
“Don’t you want to know what happened?” You look at him, frowning, and he shakes his head. “Not that. No, no that. We didn’t sleep together.”  
  
“Well you kissed her.”  
  
“But that was it. We just danced together, kissed, and then I had the cab bring her home. That’s it.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
He pauses, swallowing the further explanation he had. “Okay?”  
  
“Yeah. What else do you want me to say, Shawn?”  
  
“I…I don’t know.”  
  
You shrug, picking up your clean plate and rinsing it in the sink. “Then that’s it I guess.”  
  
You’re putting your things in the dishwasher when Shawn says “it’s everywhere, the photos I mean.”  
  
“I gathered that.”  
  
“People think I cheated on you. Because they don’t know we separated. Our families know, some of our friends, but the people who don’t know are going to try to call you, to reach out to you or whatever.”  
  
You shrug, turning to face him, leaning against the counter with your arms crossed over your chest. “I figured.”  
  
“Catherine wants me to post a statement they wrote up. Something about me saying I made a mistake and us working on our family.”  
  
“Yeah that makes sense.”  
  
You’re being way too calm about all of this. Shawn can tell by looking at your face and how the corner of your mouth is threatening to fall into a pout. He can see in your eyes, in how closed off and small you’re trying to make yourself that something is up.   
  
“What is it?” Shawn presses, trying to sound gentle, encouraging. “You can say what you want to say. It’s okay.” He wants to say “it’s okay honey“ but he knows better than that, knows he can’t say that.  
  
He watches as you gnaw on your lower lip, debating on whether or not you’re going to speak honestly. In the end you throw caution to the wind, taking a deep breath before sighing out “I just didn’t know you were seeing other people.”  
  
His heart sinks. “I’m not. It was one kiss, that’s all. I promise. I’m not seeing anyone.” He pauses, looking at her pathetically. “Are…are you?”  
  
You shake your head. “I’m not interested in anyone else, no.” The  _I’m interested in you but you don’t want me_  doesn’t come out of your mouth. “But I didn’t think we were going around and kissing random people either.”

Shawn sighs. “I know. I’m sorry. I wish I could fix it, change it, take it back. It was so stupid.”

“You weren’t wearing your wedding ring.” You say, the image of it flashing in your mind.

Shawn fishes it out of his pocket. “I still have it. I didn’t get rid of it.”

“Why’d you stop wearing it?”

He notices that you still have yours on, and he feels like an idiot. He realizes he’s making it seem like he definitely didn’t want you, when that’s the furthest thing from the truth. “I don’t know.” He says lamely. “I just didn’t-”

“Mumma?”

The both of you immediately pause, both eyes going to Lucca, who’s got one thumb in his mouth, his stuffed animal clutched in the other hand.

“Oh bubba,” you say, rushing over to pick him up. You brush his hair out of his face, feeling his skin. He definitely still has a fever. It’s not till you start to bounce him, spinning in place that he notices Shawn, and he immediately starts to squirm, fighting to get down.

“Daddy!” He exclaims. Shawn immediately crouches down, arms wide open as Lucca gets to the ground. His son barrels into him, and Shawn pretends to fall backward, careful as he takes Lucca with him, making sure Lucca stays secure in Shawn’s arms. “There’s my big boy!” Shawn says, peppering kisses all over Lucca’s face.

Lucca giggles and squeals, fever forgotten temporarily at the sight of his father. As you take in the scene, your heart swells, tears almost coming to your eyes.

You loved Shawn so much, you never stopped. You know that after being separated for a year you should’ve at least tried to move on, but there was no way. You married him for a reason, and though he’s the one who called it quits on you, you never gave up wanting to be with him. It was true that you didn’t do anything about it, didn’t try to pursue him or pressure him to come back to you, but you still loved him, still cared for him, and that would probably never stop.

Watching him with Lucca, you wanted nothing more than for the four of you to just be in the same house again, you both caring for your children and being the loving family you were before Shawn stopped trying, before you stopped asking him to try.

“Go out?” Lucca asks, trying his best to wind his arms around Shawn’s neck.

Shawn sits them up, shaking his head. “Not today bubba. You’re all icky, right?”

Lucca nods, suddenly remembering he’s ill, and pouts. “Icky.”

“Exactly. So we’re staying home today.”

“Fut!” Lucca exclaims, and Shawn laughs.

“Yeah bubba, we can build a fort.” Shawn looks to you then. “If that’s okay?”

You nod. “You’re not busy today?”

Shawn shakes his head. “Nah, got the day off. Plus I think it’s my turn to take care of them.”

He stands with Lucca secure in his arms, approaching you at the counter. He bends a little so you can kiss Lucca’s forehead, and then you look up at Shawn. His eyes make you weak, and you lean into him a little, resting your head on his shoulder and testing your limits.

Shawn doesn’t move though. In fact, he switches Lucca to rest on his hip, using his now free hand to brush hair out of your face, caressing your cheek a little. “You got get some rest, okay? I’ll uh…I’ll clean up around here and watch the boys, okay?”

“Thank you.” You say. You head back toward your bedroom, sleep already working its way through your body.

The minute your door shuts behind you, Shawn’s phone rings. It’s Catherine, and he puts Lucca down for a second on the counter so he can answer.

“What’s up?” Shawn asks, paying close attention to make sure Lucca doesn’t go anywhere.

“The apology is ready to go. We sent it as an attachment to your email. Just screenshot it to post wherever you have active accounts. And remember, no captions.”

Shawn nods, reaching out to check Lucca’s forehead. “Alright, thanks.”

“One more thing, Shawn.” Catherine says. “Libby had another idea for damage control, and we think it’s a good plan.”

“Yeah?” He asks, letting Lucca trace his tattoos with his fingers. “What’s that?”

“If you’re saying you’re working on your marriage, then maybe it’s good for people to see that, too. But also, since your wife is a saint and I think that you two need to work on things in reality, that it’d be best for the two of you to go on a little family vacation?”

Shawn immediately straightens up, brows furrowed in confusion. “Wait what?”

“Yep. You heard me. We’re sending the two of you and your kids on vacation. Starting next week for a whole week. I’ll email you the flight and hotel information later tonight.”

“Catherine, I don’t-”

“This is non-negotiable, Shawn. It’s already been decided. Have fun!”

Shawn’s stunned speechless, shoving his phone in his pocket.

“Daddy?” Lucca questions, tugging on Shawn’s fingers.

“I’m alright bud.” He reassures, trying not to think of how you’ll react when he tells you after you wake up later. “Why don’t we go and check on Gavin, huh? Maybe he’s awake.”

Though he’s thankful he has his children for the distraction, his mind can’t help but race at the thought of you both going on vacation.

For the last year you’ve only spent time together for a few hours, like today. At most, twelve hours when you did joint things with the kids. But a whole week? He wasn’t sure what could happen. Majority of the reason you both didn’t spend time around each other was for fear of addressing the elephant in the room - how much you still loved each other, and how stupid Shawn was for wanting to walk away - because there was a fifty/fifty chance of things ending up really, good, or really really bad.

Shawn was hoping this vacation would be the former. He didn’t know if he could handle anymore “bad.”


	2. Chapter 2

Shawn stirs a little. There’s warmth on his side and it creeps slowly down his body, settling between his legs.

He feels a small squeeze on his thighs and it makes him open his eyes, adjusting to the darkness. He takes in the surroundings of your bedroom, trying to figure out what’s waking him up.

There’s a soft kiss pressed to his thigh, and he moves his arms, lifting the covers.

“Hi there.” You murmur, smiling up at him.

Shawn flushes red, breath caught in his throat. “Hi honey. What’re you doin’ down there?”

“Just wanted a little taste.” Your fingers dip into the waistband of his briefs and Shawn lifts his hips, allowing you to pull his them down his legs, before kicking them off to the side.

One hand wraps around his cock, the other hand resting on his thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. You waste no time taking him into your mouth, wrapping your lips around the base of him and hollowing out your cheeks.

Shawn moans, hands flying to your hair, wrapping his fingers around the strands and tugging gently.

“Baby,” he says quietly, bucking his hips a little as you continue to work on him.

He moans again and you squeeze his thigh, pulling off his cock. “Shawn,” you say, trying to get his attention.

“Hmm?”

“Shawn,” you repeat again, squeezing his thigh. “Shawn, hey.”

His eyes snap open, boring into yours almost immediately. You’re on your knees in front of him, your hand rests on his thigh, gentle and reassuring, trying to ground him. “Shawn.” You say again. “You okay?” You reach your hand up, pushing his sweaty curls off of his forehead.

 _Fuck._  He thinks.  _It was a dream._

He takes in the surroundings of the private plane, of his two sons sound asleep on the recliners to his left, and your empty seat right in front of him.

Shawn’s throat feels dry all of a sudden, and he nods. “Yeah, why?”

“You were moaning in your sleep. Were you having a nightmare?”  _Oh you poor thing._  He thinks, not sure if he’s talking to you or to himself.

“Yeah.” He says, watching your lips. He can still feel them wrapped around him, can feel how  _real_  his dream was. You being on your knees does nothing to quell his desire. “Yeah, a nightmare.”

You smile softly. “It’s okay. It’s probably the turbulence.” You say. “You’re okay though, yeah? Go back to sleep, I’ll be right here.”

He nods, and you squeeze his thigh again, moving to squeeze his hand before you stand up, settling back into your seat and grabbing the magazine you placed on the floor.

Shawn tries his best not to think about your mouth, tries his best not to stare at you and drag you into the bathroom of the plane. He shuts his eyes, forcing himself to go to sleep and dream about anything else.

—

“I can take the couch.” He says immediately, looking into the bedroom of your villa.

You’re caught up in the tornado of your two sons playing around the living area, calling out a distracted “What?” while trying to get Lucca to not run over his younger brother. 

You’d arrived in to Turks and Caicos in the evening, and having just gotten to your private villa, you wanted Lucca and Gavin to get settled in for a bit, hoping to wear them out so they’d sleep through the night and avoid jet lag.

You manage to scoop up Lucca into your arms and prop him on your hip, wandering over to where Shawn’s standing in the bedroom door frame.

When your eyes land on the single, king sized bed, you understand immediately what he’s talking about, but you don’t say anything at first.

“I can take the couch.” He repeats, looking down at you. His heart beats hard in his chest as he looks at you, waiting for an answer. He can take the couch, but his wild dreams from the plane make him crave to be near you. “I can take the couch, and the kids can sleep with you in the bed.”

You look up at him, sort of surprised that he’s even suggesting such a ridiculous thing. “Shawn, this bed is big enough for all four of us.”

He blinks at you. “You don’t…you don’t mind sharing the bed?”

You raise a brow. “I mean the kids can sleep between us. They’ll love it.”

“But you won’t.” He points out.

Turning away from him, you sigh. You’re clearly not getting anywhere with him, and he’s clearly not interested in sharing a bed with you, or being near you.

This vacation’s turning out to be a lot of fun.

“I’m going to give the kids a bath and get them ready for bed. If you could get their pajamas ready, that’d be great.”

He sighs as he watches you head into the living room, scooping Gavin up in your free arm and towing both of them to the bathroom, shutting the door behind the three of you.

Shawn sighs, cursing at himself, at Catherine, at Libby with her stupid idea, at Allan, and especially at Andrew for letting the rest of them goad him into allowing this to be a thing.

He mumbles curse words at himself as he unpacks all of your suitcases, arranging things neatly in the drawers provided in the bedroom. When he’s done, he settles into the armchair near the floor to ceiling windows of the bedroom, turning on the TV to distract him from the giggles he hears coming from the bathroom.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the fact that his family is always right there, and he keeps them at an arms length on purpose.

Shawn’s barely paying attention when half an episode of whatever show is on passes before he hears you call to him, and he’s up in an instant, thankful for a distraction to try to clear his head. “Coming!”

When he opens the door, it’s to his smiling boys in the tub, and Shawn grabs the towel from your waiting hands. “Alright buddy,” he says, picking up Gavin and wrapping him up. “It’s time for bed!”

Shawn carries Gavin to the bedroom, drying him off and trying his best to avoid his flailing limbs, giggling along with him while trying to put him into his matching pajamas. Once he wrangles Gavin into his clothes, he turns the TV off, not wanting to distract either boy from trying to get to bed.

You come into the room a little later with Lucca, who already looks sleepy. Shawn takes him from you and repeats the process, but it’s a little easier given how tired his oldest boy is.

Wordlessly, he takes both boys and settles them next to him on the bed, grabbing his iPad from his backpack to read them a story. You grab your clothes and head back to the bathroom, and by the time you come out from your shower, Shawn’s got Lucca and Gavin both tucked in to bed and they’re fast asleep, Shawn watching them with a smile on his face.

You’re towel drying your hair, and Shawn can’t help but feel a familiar pang in his heart as you walk around in sleep shorts and one of his old shirts - a shirt you probably don’t even realize is his anymore - and he can see that the cold AC of the room has your nipples peeking through the fabric, and now all he can feel or think is  _want._

He shoves the thought away as best as possible, knowing you probably don’t want him like that anymore. Instead, he gets up to grab his clothes and a new towel for his shower, watching as you press a kiss to the foreheads of your children before grabbing the book in your backpack.

“I thought I bought you a kindle for that.” He says, staring at his hands now, not sure he can look at you.

“I like holding a physical book, so sue me.” You say. He can hear you digging for your glasses, and he sighs, the words coming out before he can stop them. From exhaustion, from frustration at himself, he isn’t sure.

“I’m sorry.” Shawn says. “I want you to know I’m sorry.”

Your head snaps to him with a raised brow. “What?”

“I’m sorry. About the photos. About us having to go on this trip. I know…I know the last thing you want or need is to spend a week away with me when we’re…well, when we’re not exactly okay.”

The sincerity in Shawn’s eyes is clear, and it makes you frown a little. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Shawn.”

He sighs again, hanging his head. “I just hate that I can ask you to be there for me and you are, but I can’t do the same for you.”

You make your way to him across the room, gently placing your hand on his forearm, squeezing it reassuringly. “You needed me. So here I am. I get that it can’t always be the same way in turn.”

“But I-”

“Enough, Shawn.” You say, not nearly drunk enough or anywhere near prepared to have this conversation. “Why don’t you just go shower, and then you can get some rest? It was a long flight.”

He pauses, wants to say more, but nods. “Alright. And don’t worry if the boys get up, okay? I can take care of them, let you rest. It’s definitely my turn.”

—

Shawn awakes in the middle of the night to the sound of sheets rustling. He opens his eyes and can see you creeping out of bed, padding quietly into the living area. After making sure the boys are fast asleep and in no position to hurt themselves in their slumber, Shawn follows suit, climbing quietly out of bed and following you out into the kitchen.

“Sorry if I woke you.” You say quietly, pouring milk into a saucepan on the stove. You reach into the cabinet and grab the little container of Abuelita’s, Shawn taking a seat at the counter behind you.

Shawn shrugs, folding his arms on the marble. “Can’t sleep?”

You shake your head, breaking off a couple of tablets and setting them aside. “Must be the jet lag.”

“I meant what I said earlier, you know.” He begins. “You being here means a lot to me. Especially when we’re not exactly doing okay.”

“We’re fine, Shawn.”

He scoffs. “Are we?”

You don’t look at him, frowning into the pan as the milk starts to simmer a little. You carefully put the tabs in, grabbing the _molinillo_ from the drawer to start stirring. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

_Because we’re married but we’re not together. Because you saw photos of me kissing another girl when I wasn’t wearing my wedding ring. Because you’ve practically been taking care of our kids by yourself. Because I love you more than anything but I’m not good enough for you._

“Because I know we’re goin’ through some things, and-”

“Do you want hot chocolate too?”

He sighs, words dying on his lips. He knows you’re right to cut this conversation off now. Neither of you are prepared to have this conversation, but how is he supposed to work things out if you can’t talk about them?

“Sure.” He resigns, relaxing a little.

“Little bit of cinnamon?”

“Please.”

You pour each of you a mug a few minutes later when the mixture is ready, adding a dash of cinnamon to Shawn’s and stirring it together. He stays up with you as you each drink two mugs, talking to you a little bit about his recent travels. Shawn insists on helping you clean up the kitchen before you both head back to bed.

Neither of you acknowledge the elephant in the room again.

—

Shawn lets out an “oof,” pretending to be injured as Lucca’s fists hit him, falling backward into the shallow water while careful to avoid his children. Gavin, watching with light in his eyes, follows his older brother’s lead, and bangs his fist into Shawn’s side, and Shawn pretends again to double over in pain.

“Oh no!” He says, moaning in pain. “You got me!”

The boys giggle and Shawn can’t help but break out into a wide, genuine smile. He’s missed moments like this, missed being with his family with no obligations distracting him or calling him elsewhere.

He sits up with a sigh, pretending to breathe heavy when he says “You guys are so strong!” He gets up on his knees, scooping up his boys, one in each arm as he stands. “I think we’ve been out here long enough, yeah? Let’s go inside and get lunch.”

He heads up the sand and toward the back deck of the villa, placing the boys down so he can wrap a towel around them both before leading them inside, making sure to dry their feet off on the towel you laid out earlier that morning for such a thing.

“Mumma!” Lucca calls out, and you turn, smiling at them from your place in the kitchen.

“Hi babies!” You bend to meet your sons, wrapping them in a hug and rubbing their shoulders. “You guys wanna go get changed so you can eat?”

Wordlessly, you scoop them up, disappearing into the bathroom. Shawn heads into the bedroom, changing out of his trunks and into new briefs and thin sweats, hanging his trunks out on the railing of the balcony.

He gets the kids dressed when you’re done bathing them, a little easier now that he’s had a couple days practice, settling them onto the bed with his iPad playing one of their cartoons. 

Their attention is captured long enough for him to head out into the kitchen, where he sees you up on your toes, reaching for the boys’ cups. Your fingers are just barely touching them, but you don’t see that you’re going to knock an actual glass over.

Shawn comes rushing over, crowding up behind you as he catches the glass in time, shoving it back on the shelf and grabbing the little munchkin splash cups.

He loses his breath a little when he looks down at you, hands falling to his sides, realizing he’s completely pressed up against you, the fabric on him thin enough that he can feel the heat of your skin.

You turn a little in the small space, looking up at him with a small smile on your face. “Thanks.”

He doesn’t respond. He’s too busy looking at your body, at the clothes you were in last night and how he can see you perfectly up close. His mouth waters at the sight of your nipples poking through, remembers that they were this way last night, remembers the time before Gavin and Lucca when they were pierced.

How sensitive they were. The way you reacted when he sucked on them, when he licked them, when he pinched them between his fingers.

His eyes travel lower, looking at the thin sleep shorts and how they’ve climbed up a little, how if he could just reach out and touch, he’d be able to feel whether or not you have anything on underneath. His mind wanders to a time when he would push your sleep shorts to the side and slip inside you, fucking slowly into you on the kitchen counter.

He wonders how warm your skin must feel after spending this morning naked tanning in the sun - something you clearly didn’t think he’d notice you did, but oh, did he notice, and he couldn’t stop staring - and his fingers flex at his sides, itching to touch you.

“Shawn.” You breathe out, not sure how to react under his intense gaze.

His eyes are hazy when they look up at you again, his damp curls hanging in his face. He bends his head just a little, wondering if he can blame the sun for how warm and fuzzy he’s feeling, for how badly he needs your mouth.

He wants to kiss you, wants to pull you in close and ravish you until he’s got you begging and moaning under him on the kitchen floor. He isn’t sure if you want that, too, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try to find out.

“Do you still-” he starts to ask, and you take him by surprise, pressing your body against his, pulling him closer by the hips.

“I do.” You say, answering probably a million of his questions at once.

Instinctively, you tip your head up, meeting him half-way. Your lips are barely touching, and you want to go for more, but you hesitate, wondering if this is actually happening, if he’ll let you kiss him, if he’ll let you have just a little taste…

“Mumma?”

Shawn groans slightly, hanging his head, and the need in you dies down. So you push him away, grabbing the cups from his hands before grabbing Lucca. “Yes sweets? You hungry?”

Lucca nods, allowing himself to be placed in the high chair without a fight, grabbing at his little sandwich and beginning to eat. Shawn watches as you disappear into the bedroom to grab Gavin, returning a second later to place him in the high chair next to Lucca.

You should’ve known it was too good to be true. If he was going to kiss you, he would have.

After that, you can’t really look Shawn in the eyes again, even if you can still feel the ghost of his lips on yours.

—

“I mean it, Andrew. I can’t do this if it’s just the four of us. I love the boys, but they take up so much of our time that I can barely get her alone.” Shawn sighs into phone, relaxing into the lounge chair on the back deck. He can hear you and the boys laughing at something inside the bedroom, your joined laughter calling for him to be there with you.

And he’ll join you in a second. He just needs to handle this first.

Andrew doesn’t seem too affected by Shawn’s plight. “Have you even tried?”

“Yes! I tried to last night.”

“And?”

Shawn checks to see you can’t hear him from the back deck before moving a little onto the sand. “ _And_  she cut me off. I tried to apologize and she didn’t want to hear it.”

“Can you blame her? A week ago you were kissing another woman.”

Shawn grits his teeth. “Are you going to help me or not?”

“What do you want us to do, Shawn? Send you a nanny?”

“No. I would like for you or  _someone_  else I know to come down here so they can help watch Lucca and Gavin so I can at least  _try_ to talk to my wife.”

Andrew sighs. “Fine. I’ll be there tomorrow, alright? And I’ll bring some of the guys with me. But you have to take care of this. This is your mess, and this time no one else can clean it up but you.”

“Thanks.” Shawn says dryly, but he  _is_  appreciative. He is. He just wants to get past all this shit so he can show it.

“On the bright side, your apology has gone over well.”

“You mean Libby’s apology.”

“Either way, the buzz around you has died down, so I’d say you’re in the clear for now. But you won’t really be unless you can get things back on track.”

“I’m trying.” Shawn insists.

Andrew sighs again. He’s been doing that a lot lately. “I know you are Shawn, I know.”

“Thank you.” He says earnestly. “I’ll see you guys soon.”

“Yeah. Just don’t wait for us to get there to start apologizing.”

—

There’s a knock on the door of the villa, and you manage to separate yourself from the whirlwind of your boys enough to open it.

You sigh with relief when you see Andrew, Geoff, Ian, and Brian, opening the door wide enough for all of them to come in.

“Boys, look who I found!” You say, and Lucca and Gavin tear their attention from Shawn, instant joy in their eyes and equally joyful screams being let out at the sight of their “favorite uncles.”

At first, you weren’t exactly sure how to feel when Shawn told you they’d be coming to help watch the boys.

You knew if they were here to take care of the kids, you wouldn’t exactly have the excuse of them needing your attention as a reason to avoid Shawn, or the inevitable talk you two were supposed to be having.

You knew what the purpose of this trip was. Knew it was so Shawn could escape the publicity fiasco back home, but also knew it was so you and Shawn could try to work on things, try to repair what’s broken.

And while you were all for that, you weren’t exactly sure how you were going to  _do it_ , and now with the guys here to keep Lucca and Gavin occupied, you were going to have to figure it out, and fast.

You didn’t mind being alone with Shawn, you just weren’t sure if he felt the same way about being alone with you.

“I’m just going to be honest.” You say, leading them into the living area. “they’ve been kind of a terror this morning.”

“I’m sure that’s not-” Geoff starts to say, but Shawn levels him with a look.

“Dude. Lucca threw a tantrum for a whole hour this morning over the color of his grapes and Gavin had an explosive diaper. Twice.” Shawn deadpans. “Hence, terror.”

Ian and Brian blanch. “Maybe we should just-”

“Nope!” You say cheerily, shoving them forward. “Too late, you’re already here. Your crash course in babysitting starts now.”

The boys pile into the living room so Shawn can give them the run down, and Andrew follows you into the kitchen. You’re trying to get their snacks and meals organized for the day, making sure they have bottles of milk and juice in the fridge.

“How was the flight? Did you guys settle into your villa okay?” You ask, making sure to label the containers with sharpie.

“Flight wasn’t bad. Villa’s great, really beautiful. We’ve got enough rooms, beach access, kinda like yours.”

You think about the one bedroom to the villa you’re staying in, thinking at this point it was probably on purpose, but you don’t mention it, nodding instead at Andrew’s response.

“How’s it going?” He asks, watching from the entryway. “I mean, how’s it been so far?”

“Not bad.” You say honestly. “I mean the kids have been-”

“As much as I love your kids you know I’m asking about you, too. You, Shawn, the boys. How’s it been as a family?”

You frown. “I mean it’s not bad. We know how to be a family when we have to be.”

“Do you feel like you’re doing this out of obligation?”

“Isn’t that what this is?” You point out. “Aren’t we here for Shawn?”

Andrew looks like he wants to say more, but he shakes his head, thinking better of it. “Well, we’re happy to give you and Shawn the rest of the trip to relax.”

You nod, “Thanks. And thank you for offering to watch the kids for us.”

Something flashes in Andrew’s eyes, but he smiles nonetheless. “Like I said, anything to help you guys relax.”

There’s a small commotion from the living room, and you put everything in the fridge, making sure to close it tight before checking on things.

Shawn’s holding his side, the coffee table crooked and pushed at an angle, a little ways away from its original spot. There are crayons on the floor and a couple of coloring pages scattered among them, and Lucca and Gavin watch from Brian and Geoff’s laps, confused.

“What happened?”

“Shawn’s a klutz and hit his side on the corner of the table.” Ian answers, picking up the carnage.

“Doing what?” You’re at Shawn’s side, helping him up to his feet. He’s clutching at himself, face still screwed up.

“Trying to clean up.” He says lamely, and you shake your head.

“Well come on. Let me at least look at it.”

You guide him into the bedroom and into the bathroom, sitting him on the little bench against the wall. You pry his hands away, lifting up his shirt and inspecting the injury for yourself. The area is red, and his skin’s been scratched at from the corner of the table, but it hasn’t broken blood. You work quietly, Shawn watching as you get out the antibiotic ointment anyway, using a q-tip to apply it before putting a waterproof bandaid over it just in case.

He doesn’t really  _need_  the band aid or the ointment, but you can tell by the look on his face that he feels a little better about it already.

“Thank you.” He says with a small smile.

“No worries.”

“So, uh…now that the guys are here to watch the kids, what do you think about going snorkeling with me?”


	3. Chapter 3

You and Shawn manage to have the entire day to yourselves.

You went snorkeling as planned, but you both got bored of it pretty quickly and ended up swimming in the private beach behind your villa. After getting a decent tan and growing tired of the sun, you both settled for lunch on the back deck - eating cold sandwiches you made for the both of you - and then went back in for a little dip. Shawn’s planning on taking you hiking tomorrow if you’re not too tired, and you’re honestly looking forward to it.

Neither of you have been able to just relax and enjoy one another’s company in so long you forgot what it felt like. It was nice to just be yourselves around each other, and throughout the day you couldn’t help but feel like this was it.

This was all you needed to confirm that you and Shawn still had a chance.

After your post-lunch swim, you and Shawn showered - separately - before climbing into bed for a quick nap before dinner. It was the best sleep either of you had in a long time. Shawn’s arms held you tight to his body, keeping you safe in your slumber, and you swore you felt him press kisses to your skin every now and again, murmuring quietly to you while he slept.

When you both woke up, you almost didn’t want to leave his arms, didn’t want the peace to be disturbed, but he pressed a kiss to your forehead, promising it would be fine. “We gotta go eat dinner, remember?” He said, rubbing your arm gently.

“We can go eat and then come back here and rest more. Okay?” He promises, and you nod, rolling out of bed.

You both get dressed - you in a yellow sundress and Shawn in his signature black jeans and white shirt, heading over to the restaurant attached to the property.

The restaurant is beautiful, and you and Shawn have a private table to yourselves on the back patio, paired with lit candles, a small flower arrangement, and probably the most expensive bottle of wine you’ve ever seen in your life.

It’s a little awkward, after the day you’ve had. You haven’t felt this close to Shawn in so long, haven’t felt that spark that used to be around all the time before he left.

And what he said to you earlier, about this time with you making him feel more peaceful than he’s been in a long time, about how you made him feel normal again…

All of this has to mean things are getting better for you both. This has to mean things are looking up, that he wants to come back home.

And he’s wearing his ring.

He’s wearing his ring again, he has been all day, and not once has he taken it off.

You think that’s a good sign, can’t help the hope that bubbles up in your chest, can’t help the feeling you have that as you sit with him like this is your first date all over again, like this is the private moment you shared on your honeymoon, on a night just like this.

Warm, with a cool breeze, near the ocean with the man that you love across from you.

He’s talking about some things he went through on the road without you - specifically being sick. You laugh, knowing full well when he’s sick he becomes helpless, needing constant attention and reassurance that he’ll be okay.

“I missed that, you know?” He says, and maybe it’s the wine that gives him the courage to do so, that has him puffing his chest out when he says “I missed you. Missed you being around.”

For a second, you think he’s going to tell you he loves you and you think you’re going to get him back. But then he pauses, and when he looks at you again, there’s a look on his face you don’t recognize.

“I’m just happy that at the end of all of this I still have you.” He says finally, earnestly, smile wide on his face. “You’re my best friend, you know that? And…I’m happy that at the end of the day, I still get my best friend.”

_Best friend…best friend…best friend_

“What?” You murmur.

Shawn’s smile smalls a little. “What?”

Your fork clatters to the plate, face falling into a sad expression, one Shawn doesn’t know how to react to. You scoff, shaking your head. There’s a pause, a moment where Shawn wants to interject and ask what’s wrong, but then you’re shoving your plate away from you, leaning back into your chair.

“Why am I here, Shawn?” You ask, tone harsh. You laugh, it sounds wrong coming from you. “I mean really, what are we doing here? Wine, fancy food, and you’re wearing your ring, telling me that we’re just friends? Is that what this is for?”

Shawn’s genuinely lost. He doesn’t know what to say, and he definitely didn’t see your reaction coming either.

“I don’t-”

“Did you bring me to dinner to let me down, Shawn?”

The way your voice cracks, the sullen expression on your face, Shawn knows he did something wrong.

“Honey, I-”

You shake your head, tears falling down your face. Shawn hasn’t seen you look this sad since…

…since the day he left.

Suddenly you’re up from the table and walking away, and Shawn can hear your soft sobs as you leave. He’s dumbstruck, throwing bills on the table and running after you.

But by the time he’s outside the restaurant, you’re long gone, and Shawn sighs, cursing at himself like an idiot.

How could he not have  _known_? How did he not know he was making you upset?

He tucks his proverbial tail between his legs, shoving his hands in his pockets and heading to the villa. He passes by the guys’ villa, can hear Lucca and Gavin giggling and running around, can hear the guys laughing and the TV playing loud. It’s way past their bedtime, but Shawn knows at this point, it’s best to just leave them be.

He’s got to make sure you’re alright first.

It doesn’t take him long to find you, out on the back deck, leaning against the patio door and staring out into the water. You definitely know he’s out there with you, and Shawn wants to hold you, wants to ask what he did wrong.

But if there’s anything he learned while he was with you, from all the years he’s known you, it’s to give you the time to say what you need to say before he interrupts you.

It’s a minute or so of you crying quietly before you’re finally ready speak to him.

“You know, you’re great at apologizing.”

Shawn blinks, stunned by the sincerity in your voice. The word choice would make him think you’re mad at him, but your tone says otherwise. “What?”

You sigh, looking out at the water. “You’re great at apologizing. You always have been. I never have to fight you for it, I never have to demand one out of you. You recognize your mistakes immediately and apologize for them, and you mean every word you say. I always loved that about you. How sincere you are, and honest, quick to admit your mistakes.”

There’s a smile on your face as you stare at the waves, the moonlight illuminating your face, making Shawn’s heart beat loudly in his chest. “I know that sometimes I’m not the first to apologize, but you are. You make me want to be better in that aspect.”

Shawn swallows the lump in his throat, not emotionally prepared for where he thinks this conversation is going. “What are you saying?”

He watches the smile on your face fade away into a frown, and suddenly he regrets ever saying anything. “I’m saying that you’re great at asking for forgiveness. But you’re not so great at forgiving yourself.”

That’s got him standing up a little straighter, hands curling at his sides out of nervousness. “I’m not?”

You know if you look at him you’ll start to cry, so you keep your emotions at bay, trying your best to get out everything you need to say. “Everything you’ve done Shawn, everything you think you’ve done wrong, everything you’ve actually done wrong, everything you’ve ever apologized for, I’ve forgiven you before you could even say the words ‘I’m sorry,’ and do you know why? Because I love you. Because I love you and I know you that you would never intentionally hurt me. But Shawn, you have to forgive yourself too.”

“I know you’ve got a lot on your plate, and that you beat yourself up for it. I can tell that you blame yourself almost everyday for different things. For the fighting, the times you may or may not have messed up, for not being there for me and Lucca and Gavin…” your voice trails off, and you stare at the ring on your finger. You had your engagement ring and wedding band fused together, and smile fondly, tears rolling down your cheeks. “But we’re still here for you.”

“Don’t.” Shawn pleads. He’s nowhere near ready for this.

“Shawn, I’ve forgiven you for those things. Because I know that you’re trying your best, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted from you.”

“But I-”

“The separation was your idea. And I went with it because I could see you thought it was for the best, but it wasn’t. I was angry, so I left and took the boys but I didn’t want to do that at all. I didn’t want us to be apart. I wanted us to stay together and figure stuff out. I know we fought a lot, but that didn’t mean I wanted us to be apart.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I still love you Shawn. I never stopped. I get that your career takes you in a million different directions and maybe we were fine when the boys were born, but I also knew that your career would pick up again once we got settled and I was prepared for that. The only thing I wasn’t prepared for was for you to call it quits.”

“I know you need time to figure out how you can make all of this work, and I know that you know the kids and I aren’t going anywhere…but the longer you take, the more I can feel you slipping away from me. And I feel like you’re doing it on purpose because you think it’s what you deserve, but it’s not. And that’s what makes me angry. The fact that you think you deserve this kind of thing, losing me and the boys, having to sacrifice instead of fighting to keep the one thing you told me you’ve always wanted.”

You look at him, finally look at him and Shawn breaks, tears falling down his cheeks as he stares at you, wanting nothing more than to just hold you and turn back time.

“I want you. I want the boys. I do. I want it so bad.”

“Do you?”

“Of course I do!” He exclaims, letting his voice raise just that little bit out of frustration. “I love you! I fucking love you, so much it kills me! So much it hurts because I don’t deserve you, but I still love you anyway, because without you I’m just…I’m not me.”

“Then prove it Shawn. Why are we even on this vacation if you can’t prove it? Stop tiptoeing around me and the kids. Stop acting like we’re not together when we are, and when we can be.”

You approach him, grabbing his hands and placing them on your waist. “Prove to me that you want us. That you want what we can be…what we were.”

Shawn takes his hands away, and for a second you think you’ve gone too far, when suddenly his hands are cupping your face, pulling you in for a searing kiss.

You allow it, allow him to kiss you and pull you close, to wrap himself around you, hands wandering under the hem of your dress.

And then you pull away.

“When you’re ready, Shawn,” you start, “you can prove it to me. You can prove to me that you want this as much as I do, that you still love me like I love you, like I’ve never stopped loving you. But until then…”

You shake your head, walking away.


	4. Chapter 4

In your last few days on the island, you’ve spent most of it alone or with your sons.

Shawn hadn’t talked to you about anything you mentioned at dinner. He hadn’t brought up the possibility of a future with you again, didn’t talk about your marriage, didn’t mention how much you both still clearly loved each other.

He wasn’t doing a damn thing about anything, and that tore you apart.

At most, he’d talk to you when he needed to, but he was right back to tiptoeing around you like nothing happened. When you’d go to bed at night, Shawn would wait until you and your sons had fallen asleep before grabbing a pillow and blanket and sleeping on the couch. He’d be up early in the morning, putting the pillows and blankets back, going out for a run on the beach and leaving you none the wiser.

But you knew. You knew he was avoiding you. And you felt like you had no one to blame but yourself.

You wanted to feel bad about dropping that ultimatum on him, but at the same time, it was necessary. You were sick of waiting around for him to call the shots, and more than anything, you were sick of not having him around because he thought he wasn’t good enough for you.

Yet here he was, pushing himself away again.

What you said may have been harsh, but it was necessary.

Still, you’d never really done anything like that before - you never had to confront Shawn on anything, mostly because you both sucked at confrontation - and you were starting to wonder if you did the right thing.

You decide to call your older sister Paige and ask her for advice.

“I mean, you dropped all of that on him,” she says. “But just because he  _says_  he wants you back doesn’t exactly explain to you how he feels, right?”

You groan quietly, flopping onto the couch. You’d just put Lucca and Gavin down for a nap, and Shawn was out with his friends jet-skiing, so you had the villa to yourself to rant and vent and bitch and moan. “But he said he loves me.” You remind her. “Did you miss that part?”

Paige scoffs. “He loves you but he didn’t say he was still in love with you. So you need to talk to him about that, get that shit clear.”

And it’s true, she’s right. He hasn’t  _said_  how he feels, if he still loves you. He kind of yelled about it but you haven’t actually  _talked_.

“Plus,” she continues, “and I hate to even consider this as a possibility because you know I hate that ‘devil’s advocate’ shit, but what if this is just convenient for him? So he can have his cake and eat it to?”

“What?” You ask, heart sinking.

She sighs, hesitant. “He fooled you once. He left you once. He can do it again, you know? I mean think about those photos. He went out to a club, he kissed another girl, he wasn’t wearing his wedding ring, and you were  _at home_  taking care of his children. Your children. Then he shows up the next day, essentially to do damage control, and the next thing you know you’re on a goddamn plane with him to fucking Turks and Caicos.”

When you stay silent, Paige sighs, her signature Older Sibling sigh, where she’s exhausted of dealing with your shit but is still trying her best to protect you. “I’m just saying. Before you go falling back into his arms, I think you need to have an adult conversation about this. Technically you’re both still married to each other, but if you don’t talk about what’s going on, you don’t know how much longer that marriage is going to last.”

—

The day before you’re set to leave Turks and Caicos, you finally approach Shawn.

“Can I speak to you in private?”

Shawn’s head swivels so fast he swears he almost breaks his neck, but at the sound of your voice he’s on high alert, heart racing.

The other guys have pulled out their phones, pretending to be occupied or uninterested in your arrival, allowing you and Shawn some semblance of privacy.

He plants his beer in the sand and nods, standing and following you up the beach and to the back deck of the villa.

“Where are the boys?” He inquires.

You tilt your head toward the bedroom. “They’re napping, they’re okay.”

You both take a seat across from one another at the little patio table on the deck, and you lean back in your chair, staring at Shawn. He visibly gulps, clearly not prepared for the ambush.

 _Well fuck_ , you think. _Here goes nothing._

“Why’d you kiss that girl?”

Shawn stares at you blankly. “What?”

“The girl from the photos that brought us on this vacation. Why did you kiss her?”

He doesn’t meet your eyes when he says “She reminded me of you.”

But you scoff, because you know Shawn would never do something like that for such a stupid reason. “Don’t bullshit me.”

“I was numb.” He admits. “I just wanted to feel…something.”

“So you went to some random girl instead of your own wife?”

He looks at you in disbelief. “I didn’t think you were an option.”

“You didn’t even try.” You spit, turning away from him.

“I didn’t know I could!” He says, exasperated.

A tense silence falls between you, the air suddenly thick and heavy and you start to get choked up. “You walked away, Shawn.” You say sadly.

“I know I did.” He sniffs. “But you left.”

“Because _you_ asked me to!” Tears start brimming in your eyes, but you blink them away. “You asked me to Shawn. And I did because I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“I didn’t know okay!” he sighs. “I didn’t…I didn’t know that I would regret it. I thought I was doing the right thing, I thought I was sparing you from a lifetime of disappointment with me. I didn’t think I was ruining our lives.”

You shake your head. Maybe talking to Shawn about this was a bad idea. You stand suddenly, staring at your feet. “I can’t do this.”

“What?”

At the weakness in his voice, you stare at him pathetically. “I don’t think I can do this anymore, Shawn. I don’t think I can keep waiting around for you anymore.”

He blinks at you, face going pale. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying since you don’t know what you want, maybe it’s time for me to start thinking about what I want.”

—

Lucca cries at the airport in Toronto when Shawn tries to say goodbye.

And you totally understand. He went from having both his parents around to suddenly having to go back to just you. He  _misses_  Shawn when he’s gone, misses his father. Part of you wishes you pushed Shawn harder, wishes that he grew some balls and figured out what he wanted.

You wanted nothing more than for the four of you to be going home together right now, but happy endings only happen in fairy tales, and this was not that.

Shawn tries to get Lucca to stop crying, tries to get him to let go so you can take him and Gavin home and unpack, but every time Shawn pries Lucca’s arms away, he screams and cries some more.

You thank the powers that be for the fact that you’re in a private lounge and not out at a normal gate in the airport.

Lucca isn’t buying Shawn’s usual excuse of “Daddy has to go to work, Bubba,” and wails even louder. You’re surprised Gavin hasn’t woken up in your arms at his older brother’s antics.

You know Lucca won’t stop, and if you drag him away, he’ll be kicking and screaming and crying the entire way home. “Shawn.” You say, watching as he hugs Lucca tight, rubbing his back. “I think we should just go home, yeah?”

He narrows his eyes. “I’m trying to-”

“I meant all of us.” You say. “Just come home.”

“Okay.” He says to you, and then to Lucca, “Okay. Let’s go home then.”

Lucca seems to calm down, tears still steaming down his chubby cheeks, but he stays quiet for the most part other than the occasional sniffle.

—

“They’re asleep, finally.” Shawn says, startling you. You almost close the washing machine lid on your hands, but you back away in time. “Shit, sorry.” He says, rushing forward and grabbing your almost injured hand, inspecting it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay, I’m fine.” You assure him. It takes him a second, but he releases your hand, then takes a step back in the small laundry room. “You said they’re asleep?”

He nods, and you sigh with relief. After getting home, Gavin had woken up and Lucca wanted Shawn to play with them, so he spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening tiring them out as best as he could. After dinner, Shawn disappeared with both boys upstairs to give them a bath, and judging by the time on the clock, it had taken him awhile to get them to bed.

“I think you might have to stay a few days.” You tell him, focusing back on the laundry. “I don’t think they’re going to like it if you’re not here by tomorrow morning.”

Shawn nods in agreement, then notices the clothes. “Hey, you don’t have to do my laundry for me, I can take care of it.”

You shrug. “I’m washing all our clothes, it’s fine. Plus you’ll need clean clothes if you’re going to be staying here for a bit.”

“Well can I at least help?” He offers, and you shrug, stepping aside so he can access the suitcases on the other side of you and help you start separating the clothes by colors. The space is small, so Shawn can’t help the brush of his front against your back as he passes by you, trapped between you and the wall.

He curses under his breath, and the last kiss you both shared on the back deck of the villa pops up into his head.

Since that night, he’s been running through everything he wants to say to you in his head, but none of it sounds right. He’s gone through every possible apology he could make, but none of it sounds like something you deserve, so he’s kept his mouth shut. You told him to come to you when he was ready, and his heart is,  _he_ is, but the words won’t come out right, so he’s been quiet about it.

Had he known you were at your wits end, he would’ve done something about it by now, but he dropped the ball again.

You were right. He was the only thing standing in his way. And he could feel you starting to slip through his fingers.

Shawn wasn’t allowing himself the happiness he deserved. But saying that to you now seemed pointless.

Still, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t torture himself trying anyway. Plus, now that the boys were asleep, it seemed like just as good of a time as any. Who knows when the two of you would have a private moment alone again?

“I’ve thought about us.” He begins, handing you a pair of black jeans. “About what you said.”

He notices your body stiffen a little out of the corner of his eye. “You have?”

“Yeah. And you’re right. I suck at forgiving myself. And I’m not good at letting myself have nice things. When things got tough, I got scared and I blamed myself. I was so scared at failing that instead of doing everything to stop it from happening, I just let it happen anyway. I shut you out, and I pushed you away, and I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have done any of it.”

He hands you a shirt, and when you reach to grab it, he drops the shirt, taking your hand in his instead. “I should’ve talked to you. I should’ve fought harder. I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you and your kindness, your love, or your patience. I’m sorry.”

Your face softens at his apology, relief flooding your body, so he says it again. “I’m sorry, honey. I’m sorry for everything. For being so shitty to you, you didn’t deserve it and I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you.” You murmur, squeezing his hand once. You let go, bending down to pick up his shirt but Shawn grabs it first, clearly demanding your attention.

“I want you. I want us.” He says firmly. “If you’ll let me, that is.”

You can hear glass breaking, like the invisible barrier Shawn’s put up between you both is finally gone.

“I know you said you needed time,” he says. “And if that’s what you want still, I’m fine with that. But I’m gonna be here for you, I’m going to stick around. I’m willing to fix our marriage and be there for our kids if you-”

He lets out a little shocked noise when he feels your lips on his, and then you’re in his lap, his shirt bunched up in your fists as you kiss him eagerly.

Shawn reciprocates almost immediately, placing his hands on your waist and pulling you close, his lips moving with yours as he stands up, taking you with him and shutting the lid, placing you on top of the washer.

After that, the kiss becomes more desperate. You’re tugging off each others shirts and adding them to the pile at your feet, keeping your lips locked as much as possible, neither of you needing to come up for air.

You kick your panties off and then Shawn’s dropping his jeans and his briefs, stepping between your legs and slipping inside of you with a satisfied groan.

“I’ve missed this.” He breathes.

“Less talking,” you tease.

He doesn’t need to be told twice.


	5. Chapter 5

You’re in the kitchen feeding Lucca and Gavin their breakfast when Shawn comes in, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, sweatpants low on his hips. He presses a kiss to their foreheads, taking the spoon from you so he can feed Gavin while you feed Lucca. He’s got one hand resting on your thigh the entire time, occasionally leaning over to kiss your forehead or your cheek.

He gets a little brave when he nips at your neck, and Lucca reaches out, swatting Shawn on his hand. “No biting mumma!”

Shawn laughs, but backs off, tossing a wink your way.

It’d been different, having Shawn around in your space again, living back in the same house as before, but you thought you were all adjusting to it quite well. You two agreed that the first step to getting things on the right track was living as a family again, like a married couple with their two loving children.

Like it used to be.

Lucca didn’t seem to notice the difference, and Gavin was too young to even remember being in the house, you thought. But moving back didn’t take much time, or cause any kind of hassle.

You were surprised to find out that Shawn hadn’t really changed anything. A lot of the clothes you had left behind were still in your old closet amongst Shawn’s things. He was using the sheets and blankets you’d bought, and a lot of the mugs you forgot you owned were still in the cupboards. Food you ate, the things you drank, Shawn still bought them out of habit. He still kept all the boys things in their places, kept your family home the way it was before you two split.

You didn’t realize until that moment that he’d been telling the truth when he said he missed you just as much as you missed him.

Without realizing it, you find yourself staring at Shawn a little as your boys finish up breakfast, cleaning their faces and getting them out of their high chairs, guiding them to their playroom off of the kitchen.

You remember how insistent Shawn was when you guys were picking this house that the playroom be in view of the kitchen and the living room at all times so you could pay attention to the boys, make sure they were alright.

Shawn smiles when he catches you watching him, setting the boys down among their toys. “You okay honey?”

A blush creeps into your cheeks at being caught, but also at the pet name. You nod, standing to clear the plates and bowls, placing them in the sink. “Did you want breakfast before you head to the studio?

You’re already heading for the fridge, but Shawn stops you, taking your hands in his and shaking his head. “I can make breakfast, it’s okay. I’m not going to the studio today.”

“You’re not?” You ask, “But I thought you had a writing session?”

“I can write here,” he shrugs, smiling at you sweetly. “Got plenty of inspiration right here.”

“But won’t we be-”

“ _No_. You won’t be a distraction. And  _no_  it won’t get too noisy, and  _no_  it won’t bother me if you vacuum, or if you run the dishwasher, or if the boys start crying out of nowhere.” He kisses your forehead twice. “I want to be here so that if you need me, I’m only one room away, not a phone call or a twenty minute drive or a whole plane ride away. Okay?”

You nod, accepting the kiss he plants on your lips before he taps your butt. “You go relax. I’ll make breakfast for us.”

You smile, heading up to your bathroom to shower.

—

Later that afternoon, you’re in the boys’ room putting them down for their afternoon nap. You wait until they’re both asleep before you settle into the rocking chair in their room, setting the alarm on your phone to wake them in about two hours.

Shawn’s been in his office most of the day, the door wide open, inviting you to come and get him if you need him, allowing Lucca and Gavin to toddle in if they felt so inclined.

These past couple of weeks of living with Shawn again had been amazing. It was a little awkward at first, figuring out where he fit in your life and where you fit in his, and figuring out where the both of you would go from here.

It was easier for Shawn to fall back into your relationship. He had spent so much time beating himself up and being angry at the fact that he lost you, that you could tell now that Shawn was finally beginning to forgive himself and allow himself the happiness he refused to accept before, he was going for it, full stop.

He’d been making all of these plans - plans to renovate and redecorate the house to better suit you and the boys, plans to take another vacation, plans to start looking at schools and daycares for Lucca and Gavin.

You were happy he was making these decisions. Over the moon, actually. You  _love_ Shawn, love him so much and this was everything that you wanted. You missed him so much, and having him back meant the world to you, but you knew it wouldn’t be easy this time.

You had to be there for him. When things get rough, when he gets in his head, you had to try harder than you did before to reassure him that you weren’t going anywhere. And if he felt he had to tuck and run, you had to hold his hand and keep him with you instead of letting your fears get the best of both of you.

Still though. Even if you knew these things, even if you were prepared to fight to stay with Shawn, to fight for your marriage and for your family, you needed to know just where his head was at. And Shawn had been nothing but honest with you, but you needed just that extra bit of reassurance.

Quietly, you leave the boys’ room, shutting the door and heading downstairs and into the laundry room for some privacy, far enough away from the open door of Shawn’s office.

You quickly call who you need, waiting atop the washer.

“Hello?”

“Hey Andrew, are you busy right now?”

“No, I’m not. Why, is something wrong with Shawn?”

“No no! He’s fine. I just called because I wanted to talk to you about something.”

You hear him sigh in relief. “Oh, okay. What’s up?”

“Well, I need your honest opinion. I know you know that Shawn and I are back together. And I know that you were around him all the time when we separated, even if you didn’t know that was the case. And I just wanted to know…do you think we’re doing the right thing? Giving this another shot?”

There’s a brief pause, and for a moment you think you’ve overstepped your boundaries, but then Andrew laughs softly. “Honestly? Right around the time you separated, I could tell something was off. He changed, and it was like he was missing something. And when he finally came clean, I knew right then that he just needed you. So yeah, I think you guys are doing the right thing. I think that Shawn needs you now more than ever. He’s been lost the last year, and I think that you guys giving this another shot is the best option for the both of you.”

“And the PR thing?” You ask. “If we give this a shot, what happens with that?”

“You know,” he says. “The clean up on that is still a little iffy, but the people who really support Shawn, and know him, are going to be behind him /and you/ till the end. You’re a family - you, Shawn, the kids - and at the end of the day you’re going to always be that. So while it’s going to be tough in public, in private, it’ll be alright. To the world it’s going to look bad, but to you, to your family, it’ll be perfectly fine.”

—

“Shawn, no.”

“Baby, it’s not up for discussion. Jake’s going with you.”

You stare at Jake from his place in the doorway, his large frame barely fitting through the space. He’s got Gavin secured in one arm, and Lucca in the other, though Lucca’s trying to climb all over Jake’s shoulders.

“I’m driving twenty minutes and bringing the boys to Paige’s house for the weekend. My mom will be there. And my dad, and my brother. No random fan is going to pop up out of the bushes all of a sudden.”

Shawn levels you with a look as he zips up Gavin’s diaper bag. “Honey, please. It’ll just make me feel better knowing Jake got you guys there safely.”

You look at Jake, begging him with your eyes to back you up, but he shrugs. “Honestly, Shawn’s right. For the most part things have blown over, but that doesn’t mean the paparazzi forget just as quick as everyone else. Consider it precaution.” When you frown, he gestures his head toward the large Escalade in your driveway. “I’m gonna put the boys in their carseats.”

When Jake leaves and shuts the front door behind him, you place your hands on your hips. “I don’t think I need Jake as an escort to bring me to bring the boys to Paige’s.”

“Baby, I just want to be sure that Jake gets you there safely and back safely before we leave for the weekend, okay? Humor me, please.” He says, standing and kissing your forehead before placing the boys bags near the door. “I want things to go smoothly and it’ll ease my mind this way.”

You frown, but you know deep down you’re going to cave. Since you spoke to Andrew a few weeks ago, you and Shawn have been full steam ahead. And last week, Shawn told you he’d be taking you away for a weekend, and that it would be just for you two, no kids, so that you both could focus on the core of your relationship.

He’d been meticulously planning this weekend down to the minute, and while you knew none of the details, you could tell it was important to him. So you resign.

“Fine. I will let Jake bring us there and bring me back.”

Shawn smiles, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Thank you honey. And I promise the minute you get back it’s just you and I, okay?”

He grabs the boy’s things, walking you out to the car. He puts their things in the trunk before coming around to kiss Lucca and Gavin goodbye (neither of them too bothered by the departure because going to Tia Paige’s house is always a good thing) before shaking Jake’s hand and kissing you on the lips.

“I’ll be back in a bit.” You say when he pulls away.

Shawn beams at you. “I’ll be waiting.”

—

You smile when you look at yourself in the mirror, the beautiful white sundress complimenting your frame, hair pulled up into a bun with stray hairs framing your face.

Shawn had shown you the dress when you arrived at your hotel suite, telling you to wear it for dinner tonight. You were so excited, you couldn’t wait to put it on, and immediately went about showering and getting all dolled up.

You were even staying at the same hotel he’d proposed to you at years ago, and about to go to dinner at the same restaurant he’d gotten down on one knee in. Whatever Shawn was planning, he’d really outdone himself.

You come out into the living room are of the suite to find Shawn already sitting there a white t-shirt tucked into olive green slacks, scrolling on his phone.

“Ready?” You ask, bending a little to put on your nude heels. When you right yourself again, you find Shawn standing and staring at you with a nervous smile.

He nods, reaching his hand out and you lace your fingers together. He puts his phone and your phone in his pockets, grabbing the key to the room before leading you out toward the elevator.

Shawn keeps his hand on your lower back, leaning into you a little. “I hope you don’t mind that I rented the place out for us.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” you tease, remembering the time he tried to impress you on one of your first dates.

He took you to a small pizza place and it wasn’t until half an hour in that you realized the normally busy place had no one coming in or out of it, and Shawn sheepishly admitted he’d rented the place out for a couple hours so you could have some one on one time without anyone trying to interrupt him, or trying to take a photo of him.

You step off the elevator and follow Shawn to the hotel’s restaurant, allowing the hostess to lead you toward the back patio. Another two waiters open the french doors, and you stop in your tracks with a soft gasp.

The back patio is lit with little fairy lights and instead of the normal dining tables, small circular tables were organized around the room, covered with white table cloths, bouquets of white roses for centerpieces, and there were plant garlands hanging everywhere, making the indoor brick patio of the restaurant look like you’d been transported elsewhere.

At each table were members of your family, Shawn’s family, and your closest friends, and at yours and Shawn’s arrival, they all stood with a cheer, pulling the strings on their party poppers and releasing confetti.

You turn to Shawn in surprise, and find he’s already smiling at you.

“Surprise honey.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your hair.

“But…I don’t…” you look among the sea of faces and find your siblings and parents among them, and then you hear the sound of little feet, finding Lucca running toward you and leaping into your arms. You pick him up, kissing his chubby little face. “What is all of this?”

Shawn smiles, kissing Lucca’s curls. “This is our vow renewal ceremony.”

Tears prick at the corner of your eyes. “Vow renewal?”

“I figured it was time, since we were starting over.” He begins, taking Lucca into his arms before lacing his hand with yours. “If you’re alright with that, that is.”

“I didn’t prepare anything,” you say, and Shawn laughs.

“That’s alright honey, you didn’t have to.” He looks around at the room, who are all looking at you both expectantly. “What do you say? Feel like taking that leap with me again?”

You smile at Shawn, your sister bringing Gavin to join you. You take him in your arms, and look at your little family. The boys you and Shawn brought into this world, your husband who came back to you, and your family members and closest friends, who’ve supported you through it all.

You spot Andrew near the front, and he tosses you a thumbs up, along with Jake, who’s standing beside him with the look of a proud father.

Finally, you look to Shawn again, squeezing his hand in confirmation, nodding toward the front of the room.

“When you’re ready.” You say, “we’ll take the leap.” And Shawn absolutely beams.

“I’m ready, honey.” He promises. “I’m ready.”


End file.
